


Viva Voce

by Hawt_Shiznit



Category: Psychonauts
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Light-Hearted, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawt_Shiznit/pseuds/Hawt_Shiznit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a pointless little light-hearted smut-biscuit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Viva Voce

I have recently learned two new things, both of which have greatly improved my quality of life:  
First is that Milla speaking in her native tongue is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. Second is that it sounds even more beautiful when she speaks it while my face is between her legs.  
I am well known to many as a man of science and research, but fewer realize that I also have a great love and admiration for art and beauty, for perfection in form and figure. That I enjoy working with my hands as much as with my mind, building and shaping and creating things I find intellectually stimulating and aesthetically pleasing on both the astral and physical planes. I have long admired Milla’s intellectually stimulating mind and aesthetically pleasing form and figure. And now I finally get to work with my hands (and mouth) on her, researching, studying, and testing theories. Building, shaping, and creating art and beauty between her thighs is my new favorite scientific and creative pastime. 

We usually communicate with one another in English, of course, but when she’s distracted with pleasure she often slips into her native language or a mix between the two (and I am prone to do the same). While Portuguese is not yet one of my more proficient secondary languages, I am able to get the gist of her meaning and I am learning more all the time. Every once in a while a word or phrase she utters will fire off a synapse of understanding in the language center of my brain, but more often the syllables blur together in a chain of breathy sighs, moans, gasps and hums. My name, of course, always stands out to me. I have so far tallied numerous ways in which she speaks it throughout the course of her sexual response: a sweet whisper, a plaintive cry, a sultry moan… endless variations. Each one is a reward for my diligent study of her pleasure. Her every response and the action of mine that caused it goes into my mental sub-file devoted to "Milla’s Sexual Satisfaction", located within the primary file of "Milla’s Overall Satisfaction With Me", located within the drawer labelled “Milla Vodello” that I keep at the front of the “Social Interactions” file cabinet in my mind. It is my favorite file to access and add to. 

I am conducting another research session now, having kissed and nuzzled my way down below her breasts, my head moving along with the undulations of body as she squirms beneath me. Currently her fingers are lightly stroking my scalp. I’ll know I’m doing well and that she’s getting close to climax when her grip tightens, and I admit that the firm tugging of her hands in my hair arouses me a great deal. Her various aromas tantalize my olfactory system and I attempt to differentiate and catalogue them: A slight hint of her flowery body wash overlaying the sweet natural smell of her skin and the heady scent of her sex growing stronger the closer I travel to my ultimate destination. It is uniquely her and it beckons me forcefully, and I must use all of my considerable willpower to take my time. Right now she is sighing and humming quietly, the only other sound in the room my mouth as I gently suck, lick and kiss below her navel and down to her soft, neatly trimmed pubic hair. She is positioned at the edge of the bed and I carefully nudge her legs apart and over my shoulders. I inhale deeply and can’t help but press my aching crotch against the side of the mattress as my own excitement grows. Our sexual relationship is relatively new, but I don’t believe I shall ever tire of this activity. Softly spreading her pleasure-swollen outer labia with my thumbs, I uncover dark rose, blood-flushed inner labia already glistening with moisture and reminding me once again of the mind-boggling fact that I can arouse her this way. I rub my fingers slowly around her impossibly soft skin to spread that slickness and nuzzle my freshly-shaved cheek against the inside of her thigh. I learned very early on in our experimentation that if I let my stubble get too long before trying this that the prickles of my beard makes her giggle. While that is sometimes fun, that is not my goal this time.  
I replace my fingertips with my tongue, making long, slow swipes and veering just to the side of her clitoris every time I reach it, not applying any direct pressure there yet. She tastes divine, and - knowing how much she likes it when I am vocal in my pleasure - I give a low hum of appreciation. She sighs my name and I raise my eyes as I lick her to watch her head roll restlessly from side to side on the pillow, eyes closed, dark lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. After a bit of slow and steady lapping I begin to switch up my motions, alternating between dipping my tongue inside of her, running it along the velvety lips surrounding her opening and circling her hard little nub. Finally paying attention to that tight bundle of nerves ratchets up the pace of her breathing and I hear the first whispers of her encouragement, a jumbled mix of words I both do and do not understand. My tongue doesn’t stop as I insert my index finger slowly inside of her heated sex, and when I raise my eyes again I see her caressing her own breasts, pinching her nipples between slender fingers. The sight causes me to forcefully push my neglected erection into the side of the mattress again, for as much as I love to be the one to pleasure her, seeing her touch herself is intensely erotic. I add another finger, gently stroking and stretching her soft, strong inner walls. She is soaking with need for me and her muscles readily yield, so I slowly add a third finger and the volume of her moans increases. I make a mental note of the various words I hear: Sasha, please, baby, meu Deus, por favor, oh God, more, faster, ooh darling, right there, yes, so good… I don’t really need quite so much instruction as our psychic bond gives me a very good idea of what she needs, but she’s certainly not doing it consciously and I certainly don’t mind listening to her. One of her hands returns to my scalp to grip me tightly and I groan, speeding up my fingers and mouth, my hips jerking against the bed a few more times. I swear if I tried I could come just doing this, thrusting against the mattress with my face in her vulva and her hands tugging my hair, but that would be rather embarrassing so I hold back and focus on her. Her moans are getting louder, hips rolling and raising up just a bit to meet my mouth, bumping my nose lightly against her mons. She’s getting close. I’m fairly certain that the word she’s repeating in between my name right now is something filthy in Portuguese, something along the lines of “fuck”. I groan again and give it my all, and within seconds Milla’s coming undone against my face. Her legs squeeze around my head and her gasps escalate into a high-pitched wail. Her strong vaginal muscles repeatedly clamp down on my fingers, squeezing them tightly as she arches up off the bed. I put my free hand on her belly to hold her down, feeling the rhythmic contractions of her uterus and abdomen as her climax crashes over her and I feel a thrill of accomplishment and arousal: another successful Milla-orgasm to add to my mental file. I don’t stop licking until her convulsions slow and she pushes me gently away, then I climb up next to her, wiping her slickness from my mouth, nose and chin with my hand.

I watch her as her breathing slows and her shivers finally stop. She smiles at me with heavy-lidded eyes, somewhat resembling a very satisfied and sleepy cat, and brings her hand up to brush my hair off my forehead. “Mmmm, that was very nice, darling.” She coos, and I raise a brow and tease her a bit:  
“Only ‘nice’?”  
She laughs as I take her hand from my forehead and begin to kiss it, and I decide that her post-orgasm laugh is yet another one of my favorite sounds. “I said VERY nice, didn’t I? Emphasis on the ‘very’.”  
I smile as I kiss her on each knuckle, each fingertip. “Well then.” I say, between kisses. “Obviously more practice is required on my part,” Kiss. “if I wish to excel past the rank of ‘nice,” Kiss. “and graduate to ‘mind-blowing’.” Kiss. “Or perhaps ‘earth-shattering’.” She laughs again and reaches for my face, pulling me in for a nice, deep kiss, her thumbs stroking my cheekbones. Milla is usually the one to playfully tease me, but I like to think I can give back as well as I receive. We can joke about one another’s prowess in bed with our words, but our psychic brains tell the truth: that being together blows both of our minds in ways we have never experienced with anyone else. When we finally break the kiss she grins at me and gives my chest a little shove so that I am off of her and into the same position she is in, flat on my back, legs over the edge of the bed.  
“Now then darling,” she winks at me as she sits up and slithers onto the floor where I was previously kneeling. “Let’s see if I can do better than ‘very nice’.” I chuckle and shift back into the pillows, getting comfy and preparing to have my earth shattered.


End file.
